I opened my mail box to find my Washington State Presidential Primary Ballot waiting for me. I considered walking straight from my mail box to my recycle bin, but thought it would be more fun to take photos of my ballot in the bottom of my recycle bin. So I did. I thought about leaving the ballot right there, but then realized that it contained personal information and thought it should be shredded. Even the shredder didn’t like it.
Why so much disdain for a bit of mail that should evoke such civic pride that I whip out my closest #2 pencil and connect the arrows? It could be because in order for my vote to count I have to sign some dumb oath. However, the oath ceases to bother me. Again, why the hate. Because in Washington my vote doesn’t count. Seriously. After reading the post card about the oath the trusty husband told me that he heard on NPR something about caucusing and such. I mildly listened, but was so bent out of shape about the damn oath I didn’t listen. It wasn’t until the next day when he pulled out the voter’s pamphlet that I listened.
The voter’s pamphlet states this:
The state Republican Party will use the Presidential Primary to allocate 51 percent of its delegates to the 2008 Republican National Convention. The remaining 49 percent of the delegates will be allocated based on caucus results. The state Democratic Party has decided to use caucus results to allocate its delegates to the 2008 Democratic National Convention.
So you are telling me that as a Republican my vote will only marginally count and the only candidates presented are crap. Then, if I want to vote for a candidate that is actually catching my eye it doesn’t count? What the hell?
Our county spent thousands of dollars to print material encouraging us to vote. They spent more to print a voter’s pamphlet showcasing the candidates, most of whom have dropped out of the race at this point and then the spent even more to print ballots that don’t count. What person in their right mind would shell out the 41 cents or whatever a stamp costs these days to vote when their ballot is just going to end up the same place I originally wanted to put it.
I could think of a few things the money used to send out these ballots could be used for. Say… fixing the potholes around our city. Or cleaning out my storm drain. Why the hell should I waste my time to even open the damn thing. So Mr. Ballot, meet Mr. Recycle Bin. Be grateful I’m recycling you and not dumping your ass in the landfill where it belongs.